


Love Language

by strand__buckley



Category: 9-1-1 (TV)
Genre: Buck cooks for Eddie, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Flirting, Friends to Lovers, Getting Together, Idiots in Love, M/M, Original Character(s), Pre-Relationship Evan "Buck" Buckley/Eddie Diaz, Sort Of, This is pure fluff, that's the fic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-24
Updated: 2021-03-09
Packaged: 2021-03-14 09:53:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,139
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29665479
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/strand__buckley/pseuds/strand__buckley
Summary: 5+1Five times Buck cooks (and bakes) for Eddie, and the one time they cook together.
Relationships: Evan "Buck" Buckley & Eddie Diaz, Evan "Buck" Buckley/Eddie Diaz, Evan "Buck" Buckley/Eddie Diaz (9-1-1 TV)
Comments: 64
Kudos: 296





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> The age-old question: is it duck tape or duct tape? hm hm hmmmm. 
> 
> I was going to make this all one fic but then I wrote three of the six and was already at almost 8k words so we are splitting this baby up! I wrote this chapter right before making bolognese for my parents!
> 
> If food is a trigger for you, then this might not be the fic for you, so proceed accordingly.

Buck liked to cook. It wasn’t really something he made a big deal about, and something most people didn’t know about him. It just didn’t really seem relevant to bring up, especially since Bobby made it his duty to be the firehouse chef, with the occasional help of Athena. 

But Buck had started learning to cook for himself when he left home, constantly jumping from place to place. Cooking became the one constant in his life regardless of where he found himself, and who he found himself with. Regardless of how exhausted, physically or emotionally Buck would be, he always found the energy to cook. It turned into a form of therapy for him over the years where he would lose himself in the magic of creating something by himself, for himself. 

+

It had been a shift from hell, and Buck was _wiped_. He dragged himself out of the rig and trudged to the locker room where he sat down mindlessly, less graceful than he’d like, on the bench. He sighed as he propped his elbows on his knees and rested his head on his palms, shielding his eyes from the movements around him.

Buck sighed quietly as he worked to shut off his chaotic thoughts, and the images of today’s horrors that were flashing before his eyes.

He felt movement next to him, a hand placed gently on his thigh and immediately knew that if he looked up he'd find the concerned eyes of his best friend. Buck took a moment to gather his thoughts, before lifting his head and locking eyes with Eddies’.

“Want to come over tonight? Chris is at a sleepover so we can order from that burger place you like and watch a movie.” Eddie nudged Buck lightly, “and if you’re nice to me I _may_ even let you convince me to watch one of those war films you've been going on about.”

Buck knew Eddie had an aversion to those types of movies, always pointing out the inaccuracies and giving his opinions when literally _no one asked Eddie_ , making him practically _insufferable_ to be around for about two hours.

Buck rolled his eyes, smirking slightly at Eddie’s amused expression. “If I wanted to hear you ramble about when -” Buck pauses, clearing his throat, which he normally does when he’s about to impersonate Eddie, “ _the collar is all wrong Buck, it’s popped up when it should be folded down, or the patrol cap is down too low on their heads Buck, or the flag is on the wrong side of the uniform Buck, or that’s not how an actual patrol happens in Afghanistan, Buck, or -”_

“Okay, okay, I get it, Buck,” Eddie interjects while stifling his laughter.

“I’m just saying, if I get to pick the movie it’s going to be one that doesn’t require me putting duct tape over your mouth for two hours,” Buck throws back. “Also I was wondering...” Buck pauses, diverts his eyes to stare over Eddie’s shoulder, chewing on his lip nervously, “U-uh - can I cook?”

Buck chances a look at Eddie and finds the man staring at him with warm eyes but a slightly quizzical expression blanketing his face.

Eddie narrows his eyes a bit before asking: “You want to cook?”

“I - I mean yeah” Buck shrugs, before adding nervously, “I mean if that’s okay, I know it’s your house, so you can come to my apartment if you’d prefer and I can cook for us.”

“No Buck, I just meant, since when do you want to cook?”

Buck just shrugged, leaving Eddie’s question unanswered, before standing and stripping off his turnout gear, grabbing his things, and heading towards the shower.

Buck stopped at the entryway to the showers before turning and glancing at Eddie who had his gaze fixed on Buck. “So?” Buck asked.

“Yeah, Buck, of course,” Eddie responded, calming Buck’s nerves, “Whatever you want to do.”

Buck smiled brightly, “Cool, I’ll meet you at your place when I finish showering, and after I run by the store.”

“Looking forward to it,” Eddie smiled, getting up and walking towards the exit before throwing back over his shoulder, “Oh, and start thinking of movies you want to watch that don’t require me being duct-taped.”

Chim, who Eddie hadn’t seen walk in, stopped in his tracks, before glancing between the two men. “Uh… do I even want to know?”

Buck threw his head back laughing, while Eddie watched his best friend fondly. When Buck controlled himself, he winked at Chim, before turning towards the showers and walking away.

+

Eddie was in the kitchen grabbing a beer when he heard the door open and Buck walking through singing _save your tears for another day_ and whistling the tune. Eddie rolled his eyes, smiling to himself at the adorable idiocy that is his best friend.

Buck walked into the kitchen and set the bag of ingredients on the counter and started removing them from the bag. Eddie tabulated the items: two cans of crushed tomatoes, an onion, garlic, carrots, celery, fresh parsley, a bottle of Merlot, ground beef, pasta, and a loaf of French bread. He turned towards Eddie’s spice cabinet and pulled out the salt and pepper, and grabbed the olive oil from the countertop.

Eddie watched the man curiously, seeing this side of his best friend for the first time. 

“Spaghetti?” Eddie asked.

“Tsk -” Buck points a finger at Eddie before smirking and countering: “ _bolognese._ ”

Eddie lifts his hands in a form of surrender and backs up a foot.

“Is there anything I can do to help?”

Buck laughed and shook his head, “Eddie, we are trying to make an _edible_ meal. So you just stand there and look pretty.”

Eddie put a hand over his heart, feigning offense, before backing up and hopping on the counter to sit and watch Buck comfortably move about his kitchen.

They settled into comfortable silence: Buck chopping vegetables, Eddie watching him. 

Buck was chopping an onion with such speed and precision that Eddie had to ask:

“So.. Buck, you cook?” _Okay,_ Eddie thought, _I probably could have asked a better question_ , but honestly, he was still trying to wrap his mind around the scene unfolding before him.

“Hmm, it appears so,” Buck chuckles slightly, but Eddie could see his shoulders hunch forward just barely.

Before either of them said anything else, Eddie watched Buck put a fairly decent amount of olive oil in a pot Eddie didn’t even know he had. Just that Buck had noted it was _perfect_ as he pilfered through Eddie’s cabinets seemingly on a mission.

Buck added the minced garlic to the olive oil and stared at it mindlessly for a couple of minutes as it cooked. He turned, still avoiding Eddie’s gaze, picking up the cutting board and adding the chopped onion, carrots, and celery to the pot and giving it a nice stir. As Buck waited for the vegetables to soften, he turned to face Eddie.

“Are you gonna ask?” Buck cocked his head and raised an eyebrow.

Eddie stared at Buck for a minute before answering. “Um, well, I’m just curious how I didn’t know you cooked?” Eddie intones “We’ve been best friends for how long now? Just feels like something I should know about you.”

“Why? It’s not like I’ve shared that piece of information, and Bobby always cooks at the firehouse, and we always order takeout, so..” Buck shrugs.

Eddie didn’t look convinced.

Buck turned to face the pot, picking up the ground beef and adding it to the pot with some salt and pepper. He worked to break up the meat silently. Once it was browned, Eddie saw him throw in some chopped parsley, pick up the bottle of merlot and add a _decent_ amount. Eddie’s mouth was watering at the smell. Buck turned to face Eddie again.

“Look, Eddie,” Buck shifted, looking slightly uncomfortable revealing this part of himself, _but it is Eddie,_ “I started cooking when I left home. I was lost, couldn’t figure out who I was or what I was going to do, so as you know, I moved around a lot. The one thing that never changed was cooking. Except for maybe, I got better at it. It started out as trial and error, but anyway, I guess I used cooking as a form of therapy. When I would have a bad day, I would cook as a way to forget I guess, and it stuck.”

“So that’s why you asked me to cook today? Because it was a bad day?”

“Yeah, I mean, I wanted to hang out with you, but I also felt like I wanted to cook. I don’t just cook when I have a bad day because” Buck shrugs, “I don’t know, I just love it, but sometimes I _need_ to.”

Eddie nods, absorbing all of this information his best friend just revealed. Buck turns back to the pot, adding two cans of tomato sauce, and bringing it to a boil, before putting it on simmer, and covering it with a lid. He moves to reach for his phone on the counter and sets a timer for two hours. 

He looks over at Eddie, whose eyes are wide.

“ _Two hours_?”

“Eddie, perfection takes time,” Buck says lightly and clearly amused.

“Hmm,” Eddie pouts, “Beer? We can go watch a movie.”

Buck nods, and walks to the fridge, pulling out two beers, and handing one to Eddie. They settle on the couch before Eddie looks over to watch Buck. 

“I’m just wondering why you didn’t tell anyone that you cook though? Tell me?”

Buck leans his head back against the couch, tilting it to look at Eddie, fingers playing with the label on his beer bottle.

“I don’t know, it was just something I did for myself, and over the years it became so normal that I didn’t think to mention it.”

“But we’re together literally _all the time_.”

“I’m aware Eddie,” Buck chuckles, before looking over at Eddie sheepishly, “it’s fine, you know now.”

Eddie continued to stare at Buck for a couple of minutes before a smirk broke out across his face. “You know... I feel like this knowledge could really work out to my benefit.”

Buck just rolled his eyes before facing the tv, picking up the remote, and turning on _Sherlock Holmes_.

Eddie could not pay attention to the movie in the slightest. Not with his best friend pressed up against his side, and not with the delicious aroma making his home smell _incredible,_ that was distracting him.

+

Later when the pasta sauce was cooked, and the bread broiled, Buck used the remainder of the wine to pour a glass for him and Eddie, and then prepared both of their plates. 

As Eddie took the first bite, Buck watched him, nervously chewing on his bottom lip, leg bobbing underneath the table, as he waited for a reaction.

Eddie _groaned._

“Buck, this is _amazing_. Oh my god, I'm in heaven right now.”

Buck breathed a sigh of relief before smiling brightly and digging into his own plate of food, feeling lighter than he had in a long time. 

“Oh yeah, this is _definitely_ going to work out to my benefit, we are _never_ ordering take-out ever again.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 5+1
> 
> Five times Buck cooks (and bakes) for Eddie, and the one time they cook together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Listen I love meatloaf with some cheese stuffed inside and a nice glaze mm mm MMM. But I feel like meatloaf is controversial??? If you get past the name, it's quite tasty.
> 
> Thanks to the people who gave recommendations on stuff for Buck to cook! I already had this chapter written and these are things I actually cook, but I'm gonna try to do two of the recs for later chapters!!

Buck was lying on the couch in the loft at the station, phone perched over his face as he scrolled through Instagram looking for new recipes. Eddie, who was seated in the armchair closest to Buck’s head, kept glancing over at his best friend. Buck could feel his best friend's gaze lingering on him.

Bucks brow furrowed in concentration, as he opened new recipe after new recipe, peering at ingredient lists, seemingly trying to figure out how much energy he actually had for dinner tonight. Buck settled on meatloaf because it was a relatively simple dish, and he already had all the ingredients for it. He decided a new recipe could wait for another day when he wasn’t completely exhausted.

Buck huffed a sigh before locking his phone and rolling his body to face the couch cushions. Eddie got up and crossed over to the couch, picked up Buck’s legs lightly, and slid beneath them. Eddie resumed fiddling with his phone and Buck peeked open an eye to look at Eddie. 

Eddie laid his head back against the couch and rolled his head to the right, meeting Buck's eyes and smiling gently, resting his hand on Buck’s legs comfortably. 

“You okay?” he all but whispers.

“Yeah, just didn’t sleep well is all,” Buck gives Eddie a look that says _you know why_.

Eddie sighed, “nightmare?” he asked quietly.

Buck shifted a little more toward the inside of the couch as to shield himself from this conversation _,_ before nodding.

“Couldn’t fall back asleep after it woke me up, so I baked.”

“You baked?”

“That’s what I said, Eddie.” Buck huffed.

“Wait so you bake _and_ cook?”

“I don’t bake anything crazy, but I _can_ follow a recipe,” Buck says with _that_ voice. You know the one where he’s essentially mocking Eddie? Yeah, that’s the one.

“Huh, Evan Buckley, man of mystery,” Eddie says bemused, clearly more to himself than to Buck.

Buck nudges Eddie lightly with his leg, before shifting his head slightly to smirk up at his best friend “you have no idea” falling from his lips.

Eddie raises his eyebrows, then rolls his eyes dramatically. A couple of minutes of comfortable silence pass before Buck peeks an eye open again, nudging Eddie with his leg _again_ and asking: “You want to come over tonight? I’m making mini meatloaves stuffed with cheese.”

“You don’t have to bribe me with food Buck, I’d come over whether you’re cooking or not,” Eddie says reassuringly.

“No - Eddie, I know that, but I dunno, I like cooking for someone else.”

Eddie smiles at Buck “well count me in, _obviously,_ ” he says and pats his leg comfortingly.

+

After their shift, Eddie uses his key to let himself into Buck’s loft. Buck is in the kitchen crouched on the ground, head in the fridge, looking through his vegetable drawer for _something._ Obviously, Eddie doesn't have a clue what it is but admires Buck from where he’s standing.

“Uhh.. what are you looking for?” He asks after a minute passes.

Buck, who clearly hadn’t heard Eddie come in, startles, and hits his head on the inside of the fridge, as he attempts to get up. A string of curses flow from his mouth quietly.

“Well, I don’t remember now since you _basically_ just gave me a concussion.” Buck winces as he rubs the back of his head.

“ _Technically_ , I was standing over here, when _you_ hit your own head. It’s not like the door is exactly quiet when it closes, Buck.”

“Yeah, yeah... Tell that to my head,” Buck continues rubbing it, “Anyways, I was just looking for parsley, I thought I had some but,” Buck shrugs, and turns back around to the fridge to resume his hunt, pilfering through the vegetable drawers. 

“Aha!” Buck lifts up a bag of parsley in triumph, and smiles at Eddie, “I knew I had some!”

Eddie just stares at Buck, a fond smile on his face, as he watches how his best friends’ mood shifts when he’s getting ready to cook. _He seems happier._

Buck clears his throat lightly, suddenly a little self-conscious under Eddie’s searing gaze. He turns to the island, where he already has all the ingredients laid out and gets started.

“Dare I ask if you need any help?” Eddie leans back against the island next to where Buck is chopping a shallot and looks up at his best friend. 

Buck halts his movements completely, giving Eddie a sidelong glance through squinted eyes. He sets down the knife, turns to the fridge, and reaches inside, pulling out a beer. He twists off the cap, walks over to Eddie, grabs his hand, and shoves the beer into it. He rotates Eddie so he has his hands on his shoulders and pushes him around the island, pulls out a seat, and forces Eddie into it. Buck turns around, walks back to where he was chopping, and resumes.

“A simple no would have sufficed,” Eddie says, smirking.

Buck gives Eddie an endearing smile before throwing together all the ingredients in a bowl. Eddie watches as Buck mixes the ground beef, shallot, garlic, parsley, ketchup, salt and pepper, and bread crumbs, together with his hand, a disgruntled noise escaping his mouth.

“What?” Eddie asks, raising an eyebrow, “Don’t tell me that ground beef grosses you out..”

“I mean, it’s not exactly pleasing,” Buck rolls his eyes.

He grabs the baking sheet he has lined with foil and sprays it with olive oil spray. He grabs some of the ground beef and shapes it into a flat oval with his hand, brow furrowed, tongue peeking out from the corner of his mouth in concentration. He picks up a piece of cheese, sets it on the ground beef, before grabbing more of the beef mixture and forming it around the cheese. Buck duplicates the same process for the second mini meatloaf and sets it on the tray next to the other one. He moves the bowl into the sink before washing his hands excessively and turning back to the island.

Eddie props his elbow on the island and rests his head in his hand as he tracks Buck's movements. Eddie allows his mind to wander and think about how he wants this _every day_ for the rest of his life. He also feels a tinge of sadness, thinking about Buck’s past and how often he must have relied on cooking to handle the tough days or the pain he was feeling. Eddie shakes away that line of thinking, knowing it won’t do any good; he’s here _now_ with Buck, and there’s literally no other place he’d rather be. 

Buck is in the middle of mixing ketchup, balsamic, and brown sugar together in a bowl, when Eddie admits, “I like seeing you like this.”

“Hmm? Like what?” Buck responds absentmindedly as he spreads the mixture on top of both meatloaves, covering them completely. He grabs the tray, placing it in the already preheated oven, and sets the timer for 25 minutes. 

“Like - I don’t know, comfortable, _happy_ even.” 

Buck grabs the potatoes and brings them to the sink, rinsing them off, peeling them over the trash can, tossing them in water, and placing the pot on the stove.

“Well I’m always comfortable around you, and cooking for you makes me happy.” Buck smiles almost shyly. 

“Well I’m glad I get to see this side of you - honored even that you trust me enough to let me in,” Eddie tells Buck warmly.

Buck has just finished cutting the broccoli and placing it in another pot, ready to steam when he turns around to face Eddie.

“Eddie, of _course_ I trust you.” He says like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

With everything cooking, Buck grabs a beer and sits next to Eddie. He figures he has about ten minutes before he needs to mash the potatoes and pull the meatloaves out of the oven. He rests his arms on the counter, lays his head down, and sighs, eyes slipping closed. 

Eddie rubs slow, calming circles on Bucks back, causing him to hum in contentment. Eddie moves his hand to Buck's hair, combing through with his fingers. 

Buck hums, “Eddie, I’m gonna fall asleep if you keep doing that and I can’t trust you not to let the meatloaf burn.”

“You _literally_ just got done saying how much you trusted me!”

“Well _yeah,_ for everything besides matters of cooking,” Buck smiles, stealing a glance at a pouting Eddie. 

Buck slinks out of the chair, to finish dinner. He drains the potatoes, adds the butter, milk, and salt ( _a lot of salt_ ) and pepper, before mashing vigorously. He pulls out the meatloaf and checks that the broccoli is finished. Overall, he’s satisfied with the appearance and prepares plates for him and Eddie.

He turns around and motions for Eddie to follow him to the couch. Buck sets both their plates down as Eddie does the same with their beers.

“Buck, it looks and smells _amazing_.”

“Well let’s hope it tastes as good as it smells, otherwise we’ll order pizza,” Buck says nervously.

Eddie just rolls his eyes as he sits down next to his best friend, pressed right up against his side. Again Buck nervously watches him take the first bite, content when Eddie closes his eyes and savors the bite he just put in his mouth.

Eddie nudges Buck “I don’t know what to say except for that you’re amazing.”

“Flattery will get you everywhere, Diaz,” Buck says, throwing Eddie a blinding smile.

They consume their food in companionable silence as they watch some show on Netflix neither of them has seen.

When they finish, Buck places his plate on the coffee table and pushes his body lower down on the couch, seeking comfort. He rests his head against Eddie’s arm, as his eyes flutter closed. 

Eddie resumes combing his fingers through Buck's hair, “Thanks for dinner, Buck. Now get some sleep.”

“Are you going to leave?” Buck asks, hoping the answer is no.

“Of course not, I’ll be here when you wake up.”

And when Buck squints his eyes open some hours later when the apartment is dark and utterly silent, he realizes he has been moved so he’s lying completely on the couch, head in Eddie’s lap, hand resting on his leg. The older man has his head resting against the couch, fast asleep, hand resting in Buck’s hair, and the other on Buck’s side.

//

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No one likes touching raw ground beef, Eddie.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 5+1
> 
> Five times Buck cooks (and bakes) for Eddie, and the one time they cook together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a different spin on this story so hopefully you like it! I was going to change it a bit but I'm drowning in midterms right now and I've also been reading the A Court of Thorns and Roses series plus The Song of Achilles (rip to my heart) this past week so really I have zero time. I'm actually posting this right before I start another midterm. *cries* Hopefully, things lighten up next week and I can at least write two chapters!
> 
> Thank you to everyone who has left such kind comments on the previous two chapters. Seriously it means a lot and they motivate me to continue this story.

Buck woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning. How that was even possible for someone like Buck, Eddie really did not know. For a man who is usually chatty, quick with a warm smile, or physical affection, ready to share a random fact at a moment's notice, he sure was disconnected and quiet when he got to work.

He barreled into the station this morning, heading straight for his locker, grumbling about something no one could quite make out. When Hen reached over to squeeze his shoulder and check in with him, he _flinched_. He softened immediately for a fraction of a second before throwing her a gentle apology and mumbling something about _being in his head._

Eddie tracked his best friend's scattered movements with concerned eyes, giving him the space it appeared like he needed, before leaving him in the locker room to wander upstairs and acquire coffee. As he was fixing himself a cup, he watched Buck shuffle up the stairs, and all but throw himself on the couch, his phone in one hand and a book Eddie bought for him in the other.

Eddie wandered over to where Buck was sitting and stopped right in front of the man, waiting for him to meet his gaze. When Buck reluctantly lifted his head, he was met with a coffee cup steaming warmly in front of his face. Buck cocked his head, the tense muscles of his face melting immediately. Eddie nodded slightly as Buck reached up and wrapped his hand around the coffee cup, brushing along Eddie’s fingers in the process before giving Eddie a grateful nod and the smallest of smiles.

Eddie dropped himself next to Buck, the two men sitting in silence, as Buck stared at the television that was currently off. Eddie nudged him slightly, drawing Buck’s gaze to him. 

“What’s going on?” _I’m here for you_ , Eddie hoped to convey.

Buck shrugged and took a sip of his coffee. “Just a bad day, I guess.”

“But it just started, Buck,” Eddie said softly.

Buck groaned lightly, “don’t remind me” he sighed quietly before closing his eyes and leaning his head back. “Nothing happened - I - I mean that’s not exactly true, well not like you mean.”

“Oh yeah? What do I mean? I didn’t even say anything.”

“Well, you’re looking at me like my cat died. You have _cat died_ eyes.”

Eddie rolled his eyes before pasting an amused grin on his face, “Buck, you don’t even have a cat.”

“My point is,” Buck stretched out the pause before sighing, “it’s nothing important. I’m just tired and in a bad mood I guess.”

Eddie nudged Buck’s leg playfully. “Bad moods are rare for you, Buckley.”

Buck just huffed before a gentle smile graced his features.

“If it’s bothering you and you’re upset, then it’s important to me, Buck.” Eddie sighed running his fingers through his hair before adding, “It’s always going to be important to me no matter what it is.”

Buck stared at Eddie for a moment before ducking his head a bit and smiling sheepishly. The younger man shifted slightly moving the book away from his lap, to reveal a cookie in a ziploc bag.

Eddie zoned in on the cookie then looked up at Buck, a questioning look on his face. He pointed at the cookie then threw out the question: “Is this stress baking, nightmare baking, or sad baking?”

Buck smiled at his best friend's concern. “Oh no, this is _frustration_ baking.” 

“Why were you frustrated this morning?”

“Uh, well,” Buck paused, hesitantly, chewing on his bottom lip, taking a deep breath, before continuing. “Well first my wonderful neighbors started playing music at 3 am,” Eddie flinched, “and you know me, I’m _obviously_ not going to say anything, so I tried earplugs, a pillow over my head, but nothing helped. So I went to the kitchen and started baking.”

Eddie, as if sensing Buck wasn’t finished, inquires, “And?”

“Well, when I was walking back from the fridge, I tripped over my work bag that I forgot to move, and dropped all of the eggs on the ground.”

“You tripped? Are you okay?”

“ _Eddie_ , did you miss the part where I said I dropped the eggs on the floor? Have you ever tried to clean an egg up off the floor? That shit sucks.” Buck whined before sighing and leaning his head back on the couch before continuing, “Anyways, I was going to make a double batch of cookies, which requires four eggs, but when I went to grab replacement eggs from the fridge, I only had one Eddie, _one_.”

Eddie smiled at his overly stressed best friend who was currently rubbing his eyes aggressively. Eddie reached over, curling his fingers around Buck’s wrist, halting his movements.

“Then what happened?”

“Well… I was already dedicated to the task so I _obviously_ had to go to the store.”

“ _Obviously_ ,” Eddie mimicked, smiling.

Buck returned the smile, “Anyways, I went to the store, grabbed some eggs, and drove back to my apartment. I was pretty much dead on my feet when I got back, but I was determined to bake off my anxious energy,” Buck sighed.

The younger man continued, “By the time I finished baking both batches, it was 5 am, and I must have dozed off on the couch and missed my 6 o’clock alarm, and when I woke up it was _6:30_ Eddie!”

“Ah, so that’s why your hair looks like that.” Eddie reached up to run his hand through the man's curls, but Buck swatted his hand away midair, a playful scowl on his face.

“Yes, Eddie, I couldn’t find my hair stuff, I think I left it here.”

“Buck, I told you to buy two for _this_ reason.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Buck rolled his eyes, “You’re _always_ right. Kick me while I’m down.”

Eddie smiled brilliantly, “you know I would never do that.”

Buck smiled warmly at him, before standing abruptly and setting down his coffee, startling Eddie. He extended out a hand and said “come with me.”

Eddie stared at him questioningly before grabbing his hand and getting up. They separated before heading towards the stairs because _we are at work after all._

They walked out of the station towards Buck's car.

“What are we doing?” Eddie inquired, looking over his shoulder at the station.

“You ask too many questions, Eddie.”

They stopped at Bucks jeep, as he unlocked it, opened the door, and reached inside. He turned around, revealing a tub of cookies in between his hands. 

Buck smiled nervously before gently shoving the tub towards Eddie.

Eddie grinned. “These are for me? All of them?”

“Yeah, I made your favorite.” Buck shrugs, looking elsewhere.

“You were frantically baking, traveling around town to get eggs at 4 am, and refusing sleep, to bake _me_ cookies.”

“Well, yeah, I wanted to bake, so who better to bake for than you? Well, you and Chris.” Buck smiled sheepishly.

“Buck, I - I don’t know what to say, this is amazing.” Eddie steps forward. “Wait, does that mean _I_ caused your bad day?”

Buck threw his head back laughing before stepping closer and placing a hand on Eddie’s shoulder. “Not everything is about you, Diaz.”

Buck winked, as Eddie rolled his eyes, opening the tub, reaching in, and grabbing a cookie.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What do you think Eddie's favorite cookie would be? Hmmmmmm...


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 5+1
> 
> Five times Buck cooks (and bakes) for Eddie, and the one time they cook together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm lost after last night's episode, but that's what fanfiction is for. 
> 
> How about that Buck/Chris scene though? 🥺
> 
> Thank you so much to everyone who engages with this story each chapter and for making recommendations on stuff for Buck to cook. I love it and it means a lot to me. ❤️

Eddie groaned as he rolled over in bed. He rubbed his hand on the already cool space where Buck’s body had been the night prior. He peeked open an eye and sighed wanting to stay in bed forever and revel in the pure bliss he felt when he fell asleep last night. 

He had shown up at Buck’s door, after a particularly grueling shift that had them both struggling to move and dead on their feet. Eddie had seen Buck dart out of the station almost immediately after their shift had ended, not even bothering to say goodbye to anyone. 

Eddie just figured Buck had the same desire to go straight to bed that he had, but was also slightly concerned about his friend's behavior. Normally, Buck seeks him out when he’s departing regardless of where Eddie’s located in the station. 

So, Eddie shut his locker, headed out the station to follow Buck to his apartment. When he arrived, Eddie knocked, forgoing the key he normally used and waited for Buck to answer the door. 

He watched the doorknob move before his eyes settled on the exhausted face belonging to his best friend. 

“Eddie? Why didn’t you use your key? Wait - What are you doing here? Did we have plans and I forgot? I’m sorry -”

“ _Buck._ ” Eddie put his hands out stopping him as he moved through the entryway. “We didn’t have plans, I just wanted to check on you, after you - you know - _bolted_ out of the station.”

“Oh.” Buck cocked his head slightly, eyebrow arching, as he turned, following Eddie inside. “Oh, yeah, sorry I was kind of zoned out. After already not sleeping well and having the shift from hell, I was sort of moving on autopilot. Kinda surprised I made it home, honestly.” Buck was rubbing the back of his neck, head tilted down slightly, wearing a guilty smile.

Eddie rolled his eyes. “I would have driven you home.” Eddie pointed his finger in Buck’s direction, “Do you _enjoy_ stressing me out?”

“It _is_ one of my many talents.” Buck shrugged, a smirk lighting up his face. He walked towards Eddie, placed his hands on his shoulders, and pushed him towards the stairs, hands-only leaving Eddie when they reached the bed. 

Eddie walked around to the other side of the bed. “For the fiftieth time... You know, I _can_ make it from point A to B without you manhandling me,” he said as he pulled back the comforter and sat down, already having removed his shoes and jeans, choosing to sleep in his boxers and the shirt he’s wearing. 

“Yes, but what fun would that be?” Buck responded with a wolfish grin.

Eddie and Buck both climbed into bed, sinking down into the sheets with only their heads peeking out. They both audibly sighed when they got comfortable, stilling their movements. This was normal for them: sleeping in the same bed if one of them came over after a long shift. They never really talked about it, never felt the need to, both just content with whatever is developing between them. 

“ _You know_ ,” Buck stated as he rolled over to face Eddie. “You could have just called me to check-in, you didn’t have to waste your night with me just to make sure I was okay.”

 _This fool_ Eddie thinks but doesn’t move, just rolls his head over to lock eyes with his best friend who was now staring at him with slight vulnerability in his eyes. “Seriously, Buck?” Eddie sighed. “If I wasn’t so comfortable I would literally push you off the bed right now.”

“Well... One: rude, and two,” Buck smirked, “I’d like to see you try.”

Eddie just stared at his best friend, a smirk gracing his own features, “Nice try, I’m still not moving. As tempting as the thought of tackling you to the floor is, I _do not_ have the energy right now.”

Buck just chuckled, rolling back on his back.

“But seriously Buck,” Now Eddie’s the one to roll onto his side to face the younger man. “Not a single moment with you is wasted. _Never_ think that.”

A flicker of emotion painted Buck’s face briefly and no sooner was it gone. He gave Eddie a sidelong glance that spoke volumes.

In typical Buck fashion, a ghost of a smile graces his face, which almost guaranteed Buck was about to ruin the moment. “Aw, tinman you _do_ have a heart.” 

_And... predictably, the moment is over_. Eddie reaches behind his head and pulls out a pillow before heaving it onto Buck’s grinning face, which causes Buck to burst into a fit of laughter. And at that Eddie can’t help but smile, grinning at his best friend fondly. 

Buck, who’s still facing Eddie, just grabs the pillow and hugs it to him. He reaches his arm out and grabs Eddie's forearm and pulls him a bit closer, before settling his hand over Eddie’s heart. “I like when you’re here, Eddie.” Buck sighs lightly, his eyes fluttering closed. “It’s like I - I can breathe easier or something,” he mumbles.

And just like that Buck’s breathing evens out, as Eddie takes a few minutes to watch his best friend sleep before he shuts his eyes, and sleep welcomes him too.

So, that’s how Eddie woke up the following morning. Sun streaming in the windows of Buck’s loft, but Buck no longer a comforting and warm presence beside him. He sighed before he smelled the faint traces of coffee lingering in the air. That was enough to get him out of bed. He used the restroom and brushed his teeth, before heading down the stairs to find Buck in the kitchen with his AirPods in, listening to music as he cooked.

Eddie took a moment just to watch the other man, his back turned to him before he glanced at the items that were covering the island. Eddie catalogued the items: cut up corn tortillas, corn oil, cotija cheese, eggs, what appeared to be a container of homemade salsa verde, and creme fraiche, and little bowls of red onion, cilantro, and sliced avocado.

Eddie’s jaw dropped. “No way.” He quickly scurried around to the stove where Buck was humming to a song, clearly oblivious to Eddie’s presence.

Eddie grabbed Buck’s arm, startling him enough that he dropped the tongs he was using to flip the tortillas. “ _No way,_ ” Eddie repeated, still shocked.

“Jesus Christ, Eddie.” Buck removed his AirPods before placing his hand over his heart and taking a deep breath. “I think I’m having heart palpitations. Why must you _always_ scare me while I’m in the kitchen?”

Eddie just rolled his eyes. “Are you making chilaquiles?” Eddie asked, glancing around the kitchen excitedly.

Buck just smiled at Eddie before picking up the tongs and resuming the task at hand. 

Eddie didn’t move from his position where he was essentially plastered to Buck’s right side.

“Uh, Eddie,” Buck said, glancing towards his best friend. “Not that I don’t enjoy you crowding my space like this, but unless you want to get assigned the task of frying the eggs, you might want to move. Get some coffee and sit at the island. You can admire the view from there.” Buck smirked before winking at Eddie, who was still staring at him with an unreadable expression on his face.

Eddie did as he was told, before he settled down at the island with a cup of steaming coffee, still lost in thought.

They settled into a comfortable silence, as Buck cooked, and Eddie, who had his head resting on his propped-up hand, watched him.

Eddie spoke first, after several minutes of silence passed. He cleared his throat. “Did you know?”

Buck hummed, "Did I know what?"

“Did you know that they’re my favorite?”

Buck turned around and smiled gently, setting the cooked tortillas coated in the salsa verde on the island.

“Yes, I knew. Your mom told me when we stopped through El Paso for dinner. It’s her recipe.” Buck said it so nonchalantly as he turned back towards the stove and cracked four eggs into the pan. 

“You know,” Eddie started, “When I was in Afghanistan, I used to dream about my mom’s chilaquiles every morning, as I would eat whatever depressing breakfast was served for the day.” 

Buck threw a glance at Eddie over his shoulder to signify he was listening, as he fried the eggs.

“I uh - used to imagine what it would be like when I got home and would eat them again for the first time,” Eddie was lost in thought. “I used to wonder if they would taste as good as I remembered, or if it would just be something else that changed for me when I got home.”

Buck turned off the stove, removing the eggs from the burner, before turning around to look at Eddie.

“Mostly though, I would just picture my mom moving around the kitchen like you’re doing now as she made them for me, and I would miss her.”

A somber look crossed Buck’s face, but it was full of understanding and sympathy. Eddie glanced up before locking eyes with Buck.

“Well, uh - now that you’ve put a lot of pressure on this breakfast I’ve made for you,” Buck smiled before chewing on his bottom lip nervously. “Let’s eat.”

Eddie smiled before pointing at the container that housed the salsa verde. “When did you make that?”

“While you were sleeping, _obviously_ ,” Buck said. “I could bang pots and pans together for five minutes and you still wouldn’t wake up.”

Eddie laughed. “You know, I used to be a lighter sleeper than I am now.” Eddie stood as he walked around the island to stand next to Buck and prepare his plate. “The first time I realized I could now sleep anywhere under any circumstance was during basic training. I uh - finished qualifying at the shooting range, and as we waited for everyone to finish, I fell asleep with my full gear on, including my helmet, as I leaned against my assault pack.”

Buck chuckled lightly. “I don’t even remember how long I slept. Maybe 20 minutes. But I woke up and was so shocked I fell asleep because it was _so loud_ at the range. Anyways, I’ve been a heavy sleeper ever since. Except for my internal Christopher monitor that will wake me up at the slightest noise he makes.”

Buck looked over at Eddie, smiling fondly. “Well you being a heavy sleeper works to my benefit because I get to surprise you with your favorite breakfast, and I get to learn more about you. A win-win for me.”

As Buck started placing the tortilla chip and salsa mixture on their plates, Eddie hugged Buck from the side tightly, startling Buck who sent a tortilla chip flying across the island. 

“Jesus, Eddie,” Buck laughed as he set down the pan and rotated in Eddie’s arms so he could embrace him fully. “I should make your favorite foods more often if I get to see this side of you more.”

Eddie just squeezed him tightly before letting go and running his fingers through Buck’s hair before settling his hand on the younger man’s cheek, locking eyes with him. “Thank you, Buck. Seriously, I - I don’t even know what to say.” Eddie motioned at the food covering the island. “I don’t deserve any of this, I don’t deserve _you_. You did all of this for me, and I know how much work it is.”

Buck shrugged and smiled. “It’s nothing, Eddie.” 

“It’s _everything_ , Buck,” Eddie stated firmly, gripping Buck’s shoulders.

They turned back towards the food that awaited them and worked in tandem to pile food on their plates. Eddie garnished both of their chilaquiles with red onion, cilantro (and lots of it), queso fresco, crema, and finishing them off with slices of avocado. Buck then turned and picked up the pan with the fried eggs and placed two on top of both of their plates. 

Buck grabbed their plates, as Eddie grabbed the orange juice from the fridge and a couple of glasses, before making their way to the table. 

Once they settled into their seats, like always, Buck watched anxiously as Eddie took the first bite. Eddie glanced at Buck affectionately, before picking up his fork, and digging in. 

Eddie _groaned_ and leaned back in his chair with his head back and eyes closed as he savored every moment of that first bite and whatever life-long memories came along with it. 

He sat up and gazed at Buck with such adoration that Buck had to look away. Before he knew it, Eddie’s hand was on his face moving his head so Buck could look at him. Buck’s nervous eyes landed on Eddie’s before Eddie spoke quietly, “Just like my moms’.”

Buck’s eyes widened before a shy smile tugged at his mouth. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Eddie said happily, pointing his fork at Buck’s plate. “Eat.”

They ate in comfortable silence for a few minutes before Buck spoke up. “You know. You were wrong.”

A confused look crossed Eddie’s face, head tilting slightly.

“You said you didn't deserve this, didn’t deserve me,” Buck said quietly. “But it’s funny because I often think the same thing about you. That I don’t deserve _you_ , and that I don’t deserve to be a part of your little family. But Eddie, you have to know, _you deserve everything._ ”

Buck stared at Eddie and Eddie stared at Buck for what felt like an eternity, before Buck smiled, and resumed eating like he didn’t just spill something vulnerable.

Buck just pointed at Eddie’s food with his fork, as Eddie still stared at him. “Eat.”

Eddie grinned, still seemingly lost in thought, as they finished their meal together in companionable silence.

//

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That story about falling asleep at the range is actually a real-life story of me falling asleep at the range during basic training back in my army days.


End file.
